


Vampirella: Moonlight of Midnight

by TheQuietusOne



Series: Carmilla Storyline [1]
Category: Vampirella (Comics)
Genre: Erotica, F/M, Kink, Seduction, Smut, mesmerize
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:27:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27697595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheQuietusOne/pseuds/TheQuietusOne
Summary: An elder vampire is on a killing spree, and the key to stopping it is through a rather influential familiar.This is the first part of the Carmilla Storyline.Quick Note: The story is seen through two perspectives: Vampirella (night) and Shaun (day). The two perspectives meet at "Midnight."
Series: Carmilla Storyline [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2025611
Kudos: 1





	Vampirella: Moonlight of Midnight

**Author's Note:**

> So I've been thinking about writing my own take on Vampirella (someone who, surprisingly, doesn't have much fanfiction written about her). As one of the influential comicbook heroines who sparked the bad girl era in the 90s, there's still so much to write about the character, especially when it comes to exploring her erotic side. This is my first piece on the character, as well as my first approach to erotic fiction.
> 
> Also, a disclaimer: I don't own the concept and character of Vampirella and other related intellectual properties (the character is currently under Dynamite comics). This is, for me, a form of writing exercise and character exploration.

**Moonlight of Midnight**

10:43PM

Summer’s full moon illuminated the dizzying labyrinth of the city, unraveling the almost empty streets, forgotten corners, and dirty back alleys. A silent shadow slithered within the confusing system of steam and steel, snaking its way along the veins of the city.

The shadow belonged to a solitary figure gliding across the cloudless sky. Every creature of the night knew very well to steer clear from it, to hide at first sight… lest they wish to meet their early demise.

The shadow belonged to the city’s apex predator, the city’s protector— _Vampirella_.

Earlier—8:07AM

The top floor was slowly waking up as the office lights flicked open on each room and hallway. As soon as the glass entrance swung open the sound of leather heels clicking against the tiles and panels filled the floor with an industrial beat: monotonous and uncaring. Faceless uniforms rushed inward until each person parted from the stream of walking workers. They soon trickled their way to their respective stations. Desk and mobile phones started ringing; the office computers beeped almost in unison as they were switched open.

At the far end of the floor was the office of Carmilla Security Tech’s director. Inside the office was head honcho Shaun O’Casey sitting on his large desk littered with organized stacks of data sheets, daily reports, and mundane memos. Nearby was a tray which had a bottle of cognac and three pristine glasses. In front of him was his laptop, still closed. He couldn’t begin his work because one detail remained missing.

Almost every minute Shaun glanced at the half-open door of his office to observe the rush of incoming people from outside. The intern had yet to arrive.

He checked his watch—8:12AM—and was quite miffed over the fact that the person he was expecting was already more than ten minutes late. He took a deep breath just to keep the unwanted stress from creeping in so early in the morning. Not today. Not on a Friday. Not before the weekly huddle.

Shaun O’Casey pulled a folder from the stack and opened it. Before him was the dossier of the intern who was assigned to his office. Bob Marken, the details showed. Bob fucking Marken.

The director of the company began to formulate a series of verbal thrashing inside his head. He wanted to press hard in order to squeeze every ounce of tardiness out of Bob’s lazy ass. Shaun gave a quick flip-through of the CV, trying to find anything personal from the poor lad. There should be something destructive, some weak spot which could help him tear the intern’s—

“Hello?”

Shaun almost jumped from the sudden sound.

“Fuck, Maria, how many times have I told you not to do… that?”

At first he assumed that the voice was from administrative assistant Maria, but when he looked up it was someone else, someone new.

She had her head sticking out of the door, and it took an agonizing second for her to step inside.

 _Mousy_. That was the first word Shaun had in mind when he looked at her, all stooped and shy and ready to be blown apart by a single word of reprimand. But there was something about her that made him look closer. Her fair heart-shaped face, though intimidated by his anger, manifested a certain glow of child-like innocence. The thick-rimmed spectacles couldn't hide the pair of wide emerald eyes, almost beady, ready to cry at any minute. She had perfectly trimmed bangs, parted in the middle, almost touching her eyebrows. The rest of her jet black hair was neatly bunned at the back.

The intern was wearing a black blazer which seemed uncomfortably tight. It couldn’t help but highlight the curves of her shoulders, her chest, her hips. Her gray pencil skirt seemed a little short, way above the knee, and the slit on the sides provided a peek of her stockings’ lacey lining.

The silence was enough to mark her in place, to manifest the wide gap of power between them. She lowered her head upon realizing her rude informality. Her bangs tried to cover her face from embarrassment.

Shaun O’Casey squinted. His fingers pinched the bridge of his nose as if diffusing a migraine bomb. When he looked at her again he noticed that her right hand, shaking, was tightly holding a white folder.

“Are you lost?” he asked, breaking the silence between them.

“The-the guys on the second floor t-t-told me to come here.” She replied, breathing faster.

“Second flo— you mean, Bronco?”

“Bronco?”

“Yes! Brondy and Collin! The security ass hats who keep pranking idiots!”

“N-n-no, sir!” she panicked. Her bright pink lips were quivering now. “The HR! Mr. Arrington and Mr. Gregory!”

“Why did they send you here?”

“I-I’m the new intern,” she said, head lowered further. “I-I’m Ella. Ella Normandy.”

Carmilla Tech director Shaun O’Casey, half-puzzled and fully anxious by the sudden changes, could only look at the poor intern, hear head completely down. Watching her press inward in shame was all he did for a good lingering minute.

10:37PM

For almost seven grueling months she had gathered information, trying to collect every morsel of clue she could scrape from the darkness. Though this was a part of the hunt, she always hated how much she would get lost within this vast network of false leads and misdirection. Sometimes such frustration was marked with an almost unnecessary violence in her wake. The institutions protecting their precious huntress would spend vast resources to cover up her activities, the altercations in the shadows. Any ordinary human being couldn’t fathom the reality of the supernatural having influence over the mundane and mediocre. Even the very idea of vampires and werewolves and ghosts actually existing could drive any society into complete pandemonium. The act of obfuscation was immensely inconvenient, and the relationship between Vampirella and the select few who knew and trusted her was always fragile.

A series of murders had been committed all over the city. Victims, mostly young professionals, had their throats ripped—the skin of their necks had been torn easily like cheap paper. Despite the gruesome wound, only droplets of blood could be found on the scene. They were drained to the point of looking almost dry, almost petrified.

Supernatural investigators were quick to conclude that they were vampire attacks, but Vampirella believed they were something more. Vampires would leave two things: a pair of puncture wounds on the victim’s neck, and some good amount of blood splattered around the body. Elders did it differently: their sharp teeth would butcher open the skin to maximize the consumption of blood from the victim’s body, leaving them empty.

Any normal vampire was easy to hunt and kill—for our huntress at least. But vampire elders? They were something else. If covert organizations could barely cover Vampirella’s tracks, elder vampires had vast, almost infinite riches to remove their very own existence. Living through hundreds of years had just enabled the old bloodsuckers to accumulate wealth and influence. They had been spinning a web so vast and complicated that anyone could get lost and become entangled. Some hunters were lucky enough to just give up, those who got way too near were met with sudden death or disappearance.

Vampirella wasn’t afraid. In fact she was looking forward to this. Her mother Lilith had released her on this holy crusade to rid the world of her kind, something which was strangely ironic, if not poetic. But still: it was a promise she must fulfill, perhaps one day she will understand. For now, she would deal with this particular breed of vampire—something which was rather difficult to slay.

For months, while she was searching in the darkness, more victims of the same murder pattern had been reported. She felt extremely useless and angry as more innocent lives were sacrificed. But as the victim count rose somehow she was able to touch a subtle pattern. The murderer was getting too greedy, too careless.

The victims all lived in different residential buildings, most of which were windowless. Earlier Vampirella had checked the security footages of well-lit hallways but nothing unusual showed. Contrary to myth, vampires can be photographed, captured by the camera lens like anyone else. They are not invisible. She was sure that the killer wasn’t welcomed, because the victims’ doors were damaged. Either the killer was a camouflaged chameleon, or maybe there was something odd about the security cameras. After a quick review she noticed that all surveillance devices came from one brand: _Carmilla Security Tech_. For being one of the top in the industry, it seemed that they had a big problem when it came to monitoring the rooms of people they were supposed to protect.

It took her another month to gather more information from her connections, to trade _favors_ and execute quick bounty hunts just to find an opening. It took a while to make her way into the most powerful person in the company. And she had only one shot.

Her wings were getting weary from the evening’s flight. The night grew hotter and more silent. Below, neon signs and lamplights hummed, guiding the spread of people on their way home, or on their way to work. She took several momentary glances to see if anyone or anything was following the street walkers. There was none. She steered downwards to get a closer look of possible landmarks and saw some familiar details she had memorized earlier. Just a few meters away was where she was supposed to land.

She flapped her wings to quicken her flight, excited as the hunt moved forward.

9:15AM

All the preparation for a massive verbal beating was momentarily cut by the strange early morning changes.

This was such clusterfuck, Shaun thought as he uncomfortably squirmed in his chair, temples throbbing, hands balled into angry fists. The quick switcheroo made by the people at HR had somehow messed his workflow, and now he was thirty seven minutes behind schedule.

_The master does not want this._

Ben, the intern that he had thought he was going to rip apart, was actually assigned to another office somewhere on the lower floors. While this—Ella—she was the intern tasked to assist his him. Heads will roll, surely—and literally.

His office door remained open, and he watched as Maria was giving Ella a rather rushed orientation. The new intern looked focused while listening to his administrative secretary. Ella’s head silently nodded after each instruction. She verified how well she had comprehended the details by politely summarizing whatever Maria was saying. This had somehow compensated something for Shaun: at least Ella had focus.

He looked down to see the open folder on his desk. A portion on each page was damp with sweat.

She must’ve been so nervous, he thought. Quickly he wiped a damp part of the page with his finger and sniffed it. There was a tinge of cheap cologne. He let his finger stay near his nose for a while.

A quick flipthrough of the young intern’s CV showed nothing but the usual boring details. Top school, top class, top organizations. Everything felt unimpressively impressive, and he wanted to find more—something personal. Even her essay felt canned, with words coming straight out of the usual writing tutorial.

“…I chose this company over the others, as I believe Carmilla Tech would help me fine tune my skills in programming…”

His eyes flowed farther along the stream of words.

“…My mentors have been raving about how well they’ve learned from the company, and how much they’ve grown as individuals…”

He had read those lines before.

“…Sometimes I feel so hot when I’m alone and I can’t help but touch myself….”

Shaun almost snapped when he had read the line. He rubbed his eyes and when looked he couldn’t find the line even when he reviewed the essay again. Twice. The stress must had made him imagine words. He closed the folder.

When he looked up he saw Maria had conveniently arranged Ella’s desk just a little close to his office. The intern had put down her bag and pulled out a big tumbler, setting it aside. She sat on the chair that was too big for her, prompting her to make some height adjustments by pulling the lever below. When she stooped Shaun caught a glimpse of her cleavage. He wanted to let his gaze linger further, just a little longer, but Maria suddenly barged in his office carrying the latest materials for his meeting.

“Tell me, Maria,” Shaun said. “Will she able to finish on time?”

Both of them were looking at her now, observing how Ella was sifting and taming the piles of paper to be distributed later during the meeting.

Maria chuckled over the busy sight and gave a calm response: “I think she’s great. Just ease up on her. This is her first day. Remember my first day under your office?”

Ella Normandy looked almost like an ivory mannequin as her arms pushed and pulled the piles of paper in front of her, fingers snatching the loose pages, placing them in their proper allocations. One stack was done, and another one, until she was able to completely sort the reports within twenty three minutes.

The new intern stood up, victorious, and when she turned around she accidentally elbowed a mug holding pieces of pens owned by the staff from the adjacent cubicle. The pieces rained on the floor. Ella immediately went on her knees to pick each pen. And when she stood up her shoulder hit the table. She covered her mouth, giving out a silent scream, holding back the pain.

Shaun could just only watch, but he had to be honest with himself: he was amused by all these.

11:02PM

Vampirella perched on the roof of an abandoned warehouse just across the supposed residence of her quarry. Her wings flapped one last time before folding. With her mental command they shrank until they were hidden beneath the skin of her bare shoulder blades.

The huntress balanced her footing, immediately crouching in the darkness, like a solemn gargoyle defending a battered cathedral. Embracing the silence of the night, she accessed her center. At that very moment, her senses shot up, thricefold.

She breathed deeply, inhaling the depth of the evening. A string of scents swarmed towards her nostrils. She sifted through the stench, the sweetness, the multitude of odors surrounding the building. She was aiming for the specific scent of a nearby creature or human—a patrolman perhaps, or a night guard. All she could smell was the wet fur of rats and cats. Her ears picked up the string of noises, expecting to hear a string of footsteps clicking on the nearby floors—gladly there was none. Instead she picked up the sirens, the murmurs of people conversing on sidewalks, the babbling of an old man sharing his imagined conquests to his fellow homeless.

The summer night blessed her with incredible warmth, caressing her sensitive skin. It made her feel awake, and excited, and slightly impatient. Like a sensory map, some parts of her skin tingled at the quick shifts in temperature. The changes implied moods and movement from afar, but nothing significant. She didn’t want to stay here any longer, but she had to make sure that her prey was there, in one of the units across her.

Her green eyes peered through the windows of the condo building in front of her, searching through whatever was revealed by the blinds and curtains. Though far, her keen sight could spot any minute movements from all floors. The moonlight was enough to amplify her sight.

Thankfully most of the residents were asleep. She could just imagine the chaos of blurred bodies in their nighttime activities—such instance could overload her senses, rendering her unguarded by a multitude of sensory experiences which she had savored once like a drug. She had previously experienced it when she was just learning how to control her gifts. She remembered how it had left her completely inaccurate and defenseless for a while.

The huntress monitored the motions on each floor:

On the fourth floor, a man was secretly wearing the lingerie of his partner who was asleep. The man was standing in front of a tall mirror, appreciating the delicate reflection. On the seventh floor a teenager was jacking off. He was holding a picture of a Victoria’s Secret Model. Near him was a hand-drawn portrait of his parents. Somewhere on the second floor, a child was crying near the window. She wanted to console her, but she had a mission and she must stay focused. On the eighth floor, between the French blinds, an old woman was in deep contemplation. On her hand was a glass of wine; on the other a letter. A video conference was happening in one room on the third floor. A woman was showing her tits in front of the men (and two women) displayed on the monitor before her.

The eyes shifted and sifted further the details. Deep inside, Vampirella felt that she was violating the sacredness of each moment. But they need not worry—for their secrets are safe with her.

There, on top — a penthouse. A solitary window covered by blinds. Between the blinds was a blur of a body, moving with a familiar gesture. That was it. She was sure. He was there.

She stood up, deeply taking in the growing intensity of the hunt.

12NOON

Carnage. It was all carnage inside the boardroom. People burst outward as soon as boardroom door opened. Everyone had pale faces. Some of them were in the verge of crying. Shaun O’Casey came out last with a look of predatory satisfaction. His face, though strict and stern, couldn’t keep his grin from manifesting, ear to ear. He had successfully fed on the fear of his fellow executives and all other underlings in the room. Each stat, each data, each detail were scrutinized and critiqued. Piece by piece he chewed the imperfections of each report, pointing out the could-have-beens, the weak points, the embarrassing flaws. Even the staff passing by could feel the cold air coming from the gaps of the boardroom door. They dared not linger near it.

The new program should be in top shape by the end of the month. It was supposed to be a one hit kill. Any mistake would spell their doom to the company.

This was how he savored his power, his control over everyone in the company. Sixteen fucking years starting from the base, and now he was on top, thanks to his strict dedication—and his unseen patron.

_The master wants this. The master will be pleased._

Shaun was savoring the moment when someone hit his left side. He bent his right leg and tried to retain balance as his left leg flailed from the sudden impact. His arms waved to shift weight, finding the right force to lean on to. He was able to regain balance in a matter of seconds.

“You son of a bitch,” Shaun said, voice lowered to a growl. His hands curled into hardened fists, ready to strike a blow to his assailant. “I will fucking end… you?”

On the floor was Ella’s fallen body, right in the middle of a lake of scattered sheets. Shaun’s agitated state would have been dissipated if not for the intern’s rather awkward position—she was completely on her back, her body carelessly splayed before the highest executive in the building. Her open legs, as if in offering, revealed a pair of hot pink panties beneath her short skirt. The tightness of her undies showed a perky protrusion of her cameltoe. The hot pressure immediately moved from Shaun’s chest to his groin. He stepped back and turned a bit to hide his sudden bulge.

He took advantage of the chaos and immediately waved the nearby staff to get the papers. No one dared to pick up Ella. Shaun slouched a bit and bent his legs just to hide the awkward mound between his legs. He reached out his hand to the fallen intern, offering to help her stand up.

There was a moment’s hesitation on the intern’s part, and she was easily flushed by the gesture. Ella eventually took his hand and got up. Both of them lost their footing, and the balancing act—which seemed more like two drunkard dancing—had the intern push herself to his chest, and like an instinctive response, the director also pushed himself towards her. After a few steps of awkward footwork, both found themselves stabilized, with two pairs of feet firmly planted on the floor.

Ella immediately stepped back, hands raised in front of her as if holding a force field.

“Oh God! Mr. O’Casey! I am so, so, so, so sorry!”

Shaun O’Casey felt dizzy with the rush, the confusion, the recklessness, the smell of her shampoo, the firmness of her breasts which had momentarily touched his chest. A good shouting was in order—as the staff surrounding them were already expecting—but the only sound which filled the room was the extreme huffing from the man who was deemed untouchable. There should be an outburst. Anytime now. He looked like he was about to explode.

Some of the staff gave Ella the papers they scooped from the floor. Some stepped back, pretending not to have witnessed the surreal shitshow a few minutes ago. It seemed that all people surrounding the scene had simply vanished, leaving only the director and the intern.

“Just go back to whatever you were doing. Watch where you’re going next time, Ms. Normandy.”

He watched her as she walked away with papers cradled in her arms. He watched her figure getting smaller as she went farther down the hallway.

Shaun was about to pay for his lunch at the building’s cafeteria. He slid his hand in his coat’s inner pocket, but his fingers couldn’t find his executive digicard inside. He searched the other pocket. It wasn’t also there. He pulled out his wallet and hastily put money on the counter. He rushed along the hallways. Maybe he just forgot, or maybe he dropped it, somewhere. He went to the boardroom and looked around. It wasn’t there. He immediately ran to his office, his heart beating so fast. He opened the knob but it didn’t budge. Fuck. Of course he needed his card to get in. Maria wasn’t around yet, so he pulled the nearest security officer to help him open it. As soon as the latter waved the security card (with some quadruple verification codes) on the panel Shaun pushed the door open.

There: on his desk was his card. He almost knelt in relief.

He could still feel his hands shaking, his heart pulsing like a rusty jackhammer. As soon as the officer had left the office Shaun poured cognac in his glass and swallowed it hard. He poured another.

11:20PM

Vampirella didn’t need her wings to get across. She adjusted her footing and shifted the force from her feet, to her ankles, to her knees — and jumped, leaving a light crack on the floor.

Once again she felt the refreshing rush of warm wind touching her face, her body. She pulled off a playful spin before landing on the edge of the rooftop. She immediately rolled towards a dark corner and kept a crouching position. She lowered the power of her vision and magnified her hearing. Three surveillance cameras were whirring somewhere on the roof. She thanked the goddess of the night—one of the light source on the roof was broken, giving her ample darkness to hide in.

From what her ears had picked up, one was positioned near her, but she knew—from the distance of the sound, to her skin not picking up a shift in wind and heat—that she was out of the camera’s line of sight and sensors. The second one was near the penthouse’s door. The third camera’s sound was almost too faint—it was at the far end of the area, totally ignorable.

The huntress rewired her senses. They had to coordinate with each other in order to slip past the cameras’ sensors. She quickly continued to traverse through the dark territory. Her skin picked up a growing surge of heat, immediately strafing away from it and rolled forward. Her ears picked up the whir of the first hidden camera growing fainter. Good.

She looked at the area where the other whirring sound was growing stronger. Her eyes spotted the glint of the lens and the muted light of the surveillance device near the door. She kept her body lowered, almost crawling. Again, her skin picked up the growing heat and avoided it as she leapt forward. She put her hand in her left boot and pulled free a blank card. With her arm outstretched she immediately waved the card on the door’s lock panel before the surveillance camera panned to her direction. The door clicked open and she slipped inside with ease.

She had “borrowed” a card a while ago, and cloned it using a device which was installed in her purse by one of her more crafty allies. Returning the original card was a little easy, all it took was to simply mesmerize the secretary, commanding her to put it on the director’s table.

Vampirella had to admit: it was exhilarating to navigate past security. The excitement aroused her.

2:15PM

In-between responding to emails, spot checking prototype software, shouting at staff over the phone, and sipping the occasional afternoon cognac, Shaun O’Casey’s mind wondered about the current state of Ella Normandy.

He swung his necktie on his left shoulder and stroked his chest, desperately trying to remember the pressure of Ella’s warm body against his. Image and movement looped inside his head as he recalled and reconstructed the incident. Details, details, details—the color pink kept flashing in his mind.

His finger felt something trapped behind the upper button of his shirt. He pulled it and saw a long strand of hair. Immediately he put it near his nose and wafted the scent of her shampoo, inhaling it deeply. He opened a small drawer and kept it inside.

The door between Shaun O’Casey and Ella Normandy was shut—quite unfortunately. Maria must’ve closed it, because she knew very well how much her boss valued privacy during the afternoon. He thought that it was a stupid idea now.

His right foot furiously tapped the rug. He opened the drawer where he hid the strand of Ella’s hair and looked at it. He wanted to touch it but felt that doing so would diminish something, perhaps a memory or rawness. Another stream of cognac warmed its way on his throat. He leaned back, and leaned forward, quite uneasy with how his body was responding the certain repressed sensations. His hand almost touched the handle of his drawer when he heard the notification sound on his laptop.

Immediately a private chat window appeared.

 _Heads up_ , said the person at the other end. _Someone’s sniffing. Cover tracks thoroughly._

The buzz he got from his cognac swiftly dissipated. He calmed his breathing. This shouldn’t be much of a problem—the plan was almost coming to fruition.

 _Update please_ , Shaun typed.

 _Missing_ , the person from the other end replied. _Five of our best men. Tracking a hunter. All missing since last week._

Fuck it. Without any second thought he scooped the bottle and poured another glass. He swallowed it with ease, letting the warmth sooth the growing anxiety in his throat and chest.

“Everything’s fine. Everything’s fine. Everything’s fine,” he murmured.

 _Noted. Thanks for the heads up_ , he replied, then closed the window.

Shaun sat in total silence, contemplating. There were just so much details to smoothen out and now this. Last thing he needed was people snooping in the shadows. Shaun may have a lot of resources, but the master had been impatient recently, pulling more reckless feeding than usual. Any misstep could lead to something far more than a clusterfuck. Before him was the monitor, bearing nothing but a dark wallpaper, his face reflected on it. He could see the gray lines already on his hair. And no matter how much he tried to maintain his body, he felt that it was slowly losing its vigor. He had achieved so much and now he feared that he would lose all of it because of his weakness, his mortality. He didn’t want to age. He didn’t want to die. He wanted so much more.

_The master was the key to all these._

His eyes went back to the closed door. What was Ella doing now, he wondered. Shaun couldn’t just open it and stare at her. It would only make him look stupid. A good reason was needed, something logical.

He looked at his desk and picked up a ream of paper from the stack. He stood up, went to the door, and opened it.

“Ella, I need you to photoc—”

The intern wasn’t in her cubicle.

“I can photocopy them for you, Mr. O’Casey,” it was Maria, ready as usual.

“No, I… It’s okay,” he replied. He looked at the photocopy center at the end of the floor and saw Ella entering. “I’ll do it myself, damn it.”

Maria didn’t want to question his call, despite the fact that this was the first time in a few years that her boss did the photocopying himself. She couldn’t even remember when the last time was. She just waved away any further tendency to ask.

Shaun homed towards the photocopy room. When he got inside he immediately closed the door.

The room was cramped, with three photocopying machines on the side and one ancient riso machine at the end. The only walking space in the area was only a few inches wide, just enough for one body to go forward and back.

Ella was caught off-guard by the sudden appearance—again—of her superior. She nodded to acknowledge his presence.

“Would you like me to copy that for you, Mr. O’Casey?” the intern asked.

He looked at her for a few seconds—giving a quick glance on her luscious chest and hips— before deciding to just use the next machine, the one immediately close to the intern. Shaun motioned her to move, to give him space to walk through.

Ella pressed her body against the machine she was using, prompting Shaun to squeeze his way in by strafing. When he looked down he saw the fine, firm form of her ass. The sight aroused him, resulting to a mound forming on his crotch. Slowly he did his best to press his back against the wall, sliding sideward. Ella raised her heels as if to give more space, but it didn’t really help. He felt paralyzed for a while, perhaps due to the cramped space, the heat of her body, or perhaps he just wanted to stare more at curve of her ass. The intern couldn’t hold her stance any longer and so she let herself slide back—big mistake.

Shaun was caught by Ella’s recline. Her entire back pressed on his chest; her ass pushing against his dick. This had caused the two to hump momentarily, the moment had caught them in a much painfully embarrassing position.

Shaun forced himself to shuffle sidewards, his open hand pushing against the curve of her hips. For a flicker of a second he wanted to hold on to them.

Both were finally free from each other. They looked down as the wide silence stood between them. Shaun’s hands shook as he prepared the papers and the machine. Ella, a bit flustered by the erotically surreal experience, decided to just continue with what she was doing. She slid the papers into the machine and pressed the start.

He took a subtle glance, and noticed that she was looking at him from the corner of her eyes. He felt the hesitation in her.

“Speak,” he said.

It took a while for her to even look at his direction, as she couldn’t stare directly at the director.

“Mr. O’Casey, I…”

Shaun noticed the swelling of Ella’s eyes. She immediately wiped the forming tears.

“I know you’re embarrassed.”

“I’m reckless.”

“Couldn’t agree more.”

“I… I’m just trying my best.”

“Perhaps.”

“God, this is the worst first day of my life.”

“I can’t say you’re doing just fine, because obviously you’ve been, uh, fumbling, all throughout,” he said. “But I have to say—you’re doing what you’re supposed to do. And to me, that is enough, at least for now.”

Ella gave out a constipated smile as she received the compliment.

“Thank you, Mr. O’Casey,” she replied, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear which, he noticed, held a golden earring in the shape of a crescent moon. It looked beautiful and sharp.

Shaun observed her smooth white neck, gently pulsing. He wanted to smother it with his lips. Would she be ticked by his stubble? If he touched her now would she—

“There,” she said. “I’m all done.”

Ella gave the warm ream of paper a light pounding just to straighten them out. She gave her boss a polite smile before leaving.

Alone he just stood there, a trapped mound sustained on his crotch. The light from the machine continued to flicker on his frustrated face.

11:24PM

The room was absolutely dark, something which Vampirella found favorable, for now. She inhaled deeply and closed her eyes to focus, summoning the keenness of her other four senses. Her ears perked, taking in little hints of soundwaves bouncing around the room. She used it as some form of sonar, providing an almost accurate estimate of spaces and obstacles around her. There was nothing really much inside: only the usual leather upholstery, smart TV on the wall, some random installation art pieces, and an ashtray placed on the table near the large sofa. She opened a solitary chest in the room, only to take in the familiar scent of old magazines. She didn’t even need to open the lights to guess what they were, as she could smell residues of manly fluid.

She travelled to the kitchen and found it clean, though reeking of burnt cooking oil and cleaning fluid. She could hear constant droplets from the sink. A wall clock was ticking somewhere near; fresh fruits were on the counter. Her skin picked a slight flow of air coming from her right. Like a cat she quickly made a defensive stance. It wasn’t body movement, she realized — just air coming out from the thin gaps of a closed door. She lowered her guard and got back to her hunt.

The huntress moved forward. She found the door and firmly pressed her ears on it. She heard a low humming from the other side. Nothing was breathing; nothing was beating. She turned the knob but it was locked. With a quick wave of the forged security card on the panel, the door clicked open.

The room was bathed in the dim glow of a solemn monitor perched on a steel table at the other end. The huntress once again had to adjust her senses, lowering them by a notch. Shelves held books on programming and leadership on the right side. On top were books on vampirism and the occult. She pulled out a familiar spine—she wasn’t surprised. It was a copy of the Book of Chaos.

When she reached the desk her eyes spotted something on the area near the keyboard. There was the familiar bottle of cognac—it was almost empty. Beside the bottle was her quarry’s security card and a rolled up bill. Specks of white dust were found on one end. She brushed it with her finger, smelled and licked it. Well, either her prey was completely partying all alone, or he was extremely stressed by something.

The monitor continued to light the room, its screensaver had the Carmilla logo lazily bouncing about on the four digital walls. Her hand moved the mouse, expecting to open the interface, only to be disappointed when a window displayed a command: enter password.

The card was useless here.

She shifted her gaze on the wall across the shelf and saw a wide corkboard. Vampirella gasped at what she saw:

Stolen shots of victims were pinned on the wall. Each one had a large red “X” marked on their faces. She immediately saw the picture of the victim whose body was found just last week. Some of the people there were unfamiliar, perhaps their bodies have yet to be found. She covered her mouth in shock, in disgust. This was it—these at least confirmed something. Deep inside she felt bad knowing the fact that she couldn’t do anything to save them. It was all too late.

Below the corkboard was a small table with more stolen shots of people. The angle seemed that they were taken by a security camera. The pictures remained clean and unmarked. At least she still had time to save them. She wondered how they were all connected to each other.

As Vampirella was about to move away she noticed a folder at the edge of the table. She opened it and found the CV, info, and HR evaluation of Ella Normandy. She found some familiar white, sticky fluid on the pages, on her picture.

Smirking in the darkness, she knew what to do.

4:35PM

The sound of the weekend coming closer could be heard just outside his office. The phones were ringing less now and PCs were getting shut down. Maria’s voice could be heard just near Shaun’s room. She was bidding goodbye to fellow staff. As expected, there was a door knock, and the director coughed his permission for her to enter.

As the door opened Shaun hungrily looked for the intern in her cubicle. He only saw a quick glance before Maria completely blocked his line of sight, annoying him a bit.

“I’m leaving now, Mr, O’Casey,” she said. “A little earlier this time. I have to attend my son’s recital.”

He simply gestured his approval and signaled her to leave.

“Oh, by the way, maintenance has closed the airconditioning system just now. Someone reported a spark in the core controls. They need to shut it down to find the problem. It’s going to be hot in a few minutes.”

“It’s okay, Maria. I’ll be leaving in a while soon, anyway,” he replied. “Enjoy your weekend.”

Without any more talk the secretary nodded and left, immediately shutting the door.

There was a tinge of regret on that part, as he forgot to tell the secretary to just keep it open. Perhaps the airconditioner conking out would be a reasonable excuse, but decided to just forget about it, as it was a little too odd, a little too obvious. Besides, work was about to end, maybe there wasn’t really any point. Or maybe he was overthinking.

As he slunk back he inhaled remnants of the intern’s cologne stuck on his shirt. His own perfume couldn’t hide the smell. In fact, somehow the two seemed to complement each other—Shaun’s powerful, earthy lavender blended well with Ella’s floral scent. He breathed deeply again and savored the experience. He imagined the smooth skin under her clothes. He remembered the flash of bright pink, filling his mind with dirty images. The cognac was kicking now. All he needed was a little coke to pump it up.

The flow was interrupted by a beep on his computer. The monitor showed the weekly security report on the various parts of the city. A number of digital windows opened before him, showing people walking on the streets, waiting in corners, sitting in their workspaces…

Wait. That’s it. He had an idea.

Quickly his fingers danced on the keyboard. Digital windows closed and opened. He had access to everything, he was top brass after all, the overseer. Why the hell had he not thought of it in the first place? A series of codes were thrown on the screen, and a couple of digital locks were opened.

The building’s security monitors were accessed. A number of displays were shown. No, not this one. Wrong floor. Closer now. Let’s take a better angle. There!

A window displayed Ella working in her cubicle.

He wanted to pat himself on the back right now. The access he had was quite impressive. Another round of cognac was in order.

With shaky fingers he double-clicked the screen to give a full display of the intern at work. He couldn’t believe such power he was enjoying. He pressed the record button.

On the display was her desk almost clean save for a couple of documents and her tumbler. Ella had removed her blazer—quite understandable: aside from the day ending, the room was also getting hotter. She was wearing a tight yellow short-sleeved blouse, the fabric firmly gripped the fine form of her body.

Again she tucked her hair behind her ear and wiped her forehead. She was so sweaty now; a few dark patches could be seen on her clothes. He could see the outline of her bra.

Ella pulled back and stretched her arms, as if victorious, and yawned. She craned her exquisite neck and let her right hand slide on it, downward, until it reached the button of her blouse just near her cleavage. She looked left, then right, then relaxed her head again on the seat’s headrest. She closed her eyes and unbuttoned the one which held the cloth on her cleavage, exposing a pink lacey bra which tightly covered her breasts.

Shaun watched the tired intern sigh in relief. He almost fell from his seat.

The intern leaned forward again and picked the tumbler from her table, opened it. Immediately she drank its content.

He observed how thirsty Ella was as she took it all in without any care. Dark liquid lines escaped her mouth, rolling down to her chin. What was that? Strawberry? Chocolate? As soon as she put the tumbler back on her table she immediately wiped away the thin ooze with her left hand, staining her fingers. She leaned back again, a little more relaxed now, almost without poise, eyes closed.

She slowly sucked her fingers one by one, like how one savors a lollipop.

Shaun thought he heard her moan. Maybe he was just imagining the sound.

Her free hand found its way down—from her belly, to her hips, to her legs. She lifted her short skirt a little, revealing the white creamy flesh of her thighs. She was caressing them now. Her breathing was getting faster.

He gulped hard. He felt something hot gathering in his loins. His heart rate was rising. He didn’t notice his head was a little too near the monitor now.

She sucked the last liquid stain from her pinky, and proceeded to finish whatever was left on her soft lips with her tongue. She licked them slowly, savoring the pleasure of the moment.

Ella smiled and opened her eyes as if waking up from a deep, satisfying slumber. She looked directly at the hidden camera.

Shaun was caught off-guard and, in panic, closed the digital window.

What the hell was that, he thought. No, it can’t be. She can’t see the camera. No one can. Does she even know someone’s watching her?

The sudden pain of guilt rose in his chest, almost making him lose his breath. He felt very much like a kid caught peeping at someone who was taking a shower. The room was closed. The camera was hidden. No one will ever know who was looking even when the camera was spotted, yet he couldn’t help but loop the worries in his head.

For a few minutes, the director just sat there, stunned and wide-eyed. The alcohol from the cognac was slowly melding with the rising libido in his body. He could feel the rapid pulse around his penis, and tried all his will to calm himself down, to calm it down.

On his desk was the open folder containing the details of Ella V Normandy. He thought he saw her eye had winked at him. Was she smiling at him? For him?

Fuck it. Just fuck it. He stood up and dashed to the door. His mind frantically formulating something to say, a proposal of sorts. This was the start of the weekend after all. He had power, and he wanted her, so much that he was now willing to just candidly invite her for a few drinks tonight, and perhaps open some dirty invitation topped with a rather enticing compensation. Whatever the company could give. He was willing to risk it all.

When he got out he only saw an empty cubicle. Ella’s tumbler, her bag, her blazer—they weren’t there. Shaun turned around and looked. Nothing. She wasn’t on the floor anymore.

He ran back to his office and called the guards on the first floor, but they couldn’t figure out who he was talking about. The intern was new, so it was just natural for them to still be totally clueless.

Shaun pounded the phone, and pounded it more. The staff who were still on his floor heard a muffled scream. It only made them pack up faster.

MIDNIGHT

Vampirella’s ears picked up a voice—it was soft, vulnerable. At first she assumed that it came from someone trapped, perhaps locked in another room. But when she heard it again she finally figured whose voice it belonged to.

The huntress traced the source of the sound, ears leading the way, nimble feet softly treading through the dark halls. Her eyes could now pick up minute details, outlines of objects that were easily evaded thanks to her liquid movement. It was like playing a game of hide and seek, and she was fully embracing the predatory thrill.

The sound was getting louder now, more defined — it seemed stained with despair and pleasure.

Vampirella’s strong sense of smell had picked up a significant musky scent. It was so potent her keen eyes could almost see it form into a thin ribbon lazily flowing about in the air. She further slowed her pace as she approached the thin light emanating from a nearby door. He was there.

“Ugh, ugh, ugh—“ there was no mistake. That was his voice. Between moans she could hear the sound of wet palm sliding on skin.

The huntress adjusted the keenness of her eyes, adapting to the play of light and shadow between rooms. She stood in front of the thin gap and watched.

On the king size bed was Carmilla director Shaun O’Casey sprawled entirely naked. One hand holding a tablet—which was the only source of light in the room—and the other hand gripping his penis. The salty smell of his sweat and the musk coming from his lower region was all over the room, escaping through the small opening of his door.

Vampirella was taking all the details in, monitoring her hunt: his vulnerability, his lust. As Shaun’s moaning grew louder the huntress felt a passing shiver on her nape, turning her on, making her nipples erect over the sweet sensation. Her breathing started to rise, bit by bit. She could feel a growing dampness between her legs.

Her quarry’s moans have escalated into desperate prayers.

“E-Ella,” he whispered, helplessly. “Oh, please, Ella.”

\-----

Shaun felt the huge gap deep inside, something which he knew very well he couldn’t fill. He felt too late. He blew his chance earlier, and he was punishing himself now by wallowing in this immeasurable regret. He had power. He had all the power, but she easily slipped away from him.

His eyes were deeply locked on the moving picture of Ella in sweet rapture inside her cubicle, Ella enjoying the moment, Ella in deep intimacy with herself, Ella seducing him with her deep gaze.

Shaun could still smell her cologne on her skin, the shampoo on her hair. His mind had set something in loop: the painful repetition of a million peeks of her hot pink panties. He was suffering within this pitiful recollection, agonizing over a thousand assumptions of possibilities: if he had asked only earlier, if he didn’t hesitate. He took in whatever he could take, and he fapped harder. For now he—

“Do you need help, Mr. O’Casey?”

Shaun jumped at the sudden voice, instantly releasing both his grip on his tablet and his penis.

His right hand fumbled on the bed’s headboard looking for the emergency button. He pressed whatever he could press, hoping for it to be the alarm, only to realize that it was the command button opening the window’s blinds, unraveling a cloudless, starry sky and the glorious moon outside.

Standing at the door was a figure bathed in meager moonlight. Her smooth, alabaster body looked like a statue of a Greek goddess. At first Shaun thought she was naked, but he noticed that she was wearing what seemed to be a combination of lingerie and bikini. Around her neck was a popped white collar held by a golden ring, which also held a pair of thin blood-crimson ribbons covering her supple breasts. The cloth could barely hide the details of her nipples. The fabric smoothly flowed downward to cover her crotch. On the space over her delta was the symbol of a bright, golden bat.

As the figure stepped closer the moonlight touched two other details: a golden arm band wrapped around her right bicep, and a familiar pair of crescent moon earrings.

No, he thought. No. No. This can’t be. Ella?

Shaun feared that both coke and cognac had clouded his mind, conjuring the very image of his desire. The drug was too strong.

He summoned his remaining focus to take control, to imagine it all away. He fought with his head, assuming his libido was merely playing tricks on him. He squeezed his eyes and when he opened them again her body was closer, warmer—more real.

“I… I think I’m growing crazy,” he said, trying to back a few inches.

This wasn’t the Ella he had known earlier. Her raven hair was free, flowing smoothly down to the curve of her shoulders. And her eyes—her deep emerald eyes were gazing down on him seductively, making him feel like a poor, desperate worshipper of a forgotten deity. In the hazy, damp darkness he could see her smile with her red lips, moist with desire and hunger.

“It seems that my boss has been very, very busy,” she said, looking at the fallen tablet which displayed the footage of her alter-ego in the act of self-pleasure. It was part of a honey trap she carefully had set earlier. She was satisfied that it worked.

This wasn’t the mousy, clumsy Ella that Shaun saw in his office. She was totally someone else, someone who was more confident, more in control, more dangerous.

Shaun felt totally embarrassed, small, and helpless before the sultry woman walking towards him. His chest rose and fell deeply as he fell further into this state of lust by her seductive presence. Both of his hands were firmly gripping the bed sheets, hanging on to something which he could not even grasp.

“W-What are you doing here?”

Vampirella softly placed her forefinger on her lips, signaling him to silence, to relax and embrace the moment. She stepped forward into his direction, basking her body in more moonlight. Shaun felt the room’s heaviness pressing on his loins; the huntress felt the agonized adoration of her quarry.

“Mr. O’Casey, you asked for me, didn’t you?” she whispered. “Here I am.”

She touched the golden ring below her neck. With a soft click it released her collar, and liberated her breasts from the thin ribbons. She easily slid out of her crimson silk suit. After a quick unzipping she released her feet from her boots. Her movements flowed smoothly that Shaun barely even noticed her unwrapping right before him, for him.

She climbed on the bed naked, save for her jewelry which Shaun totally didn’t mind. In fact he admired them.

Vampirella crawled on the sheets, watching him like a predatory panther, and stopped when she faced Shaun O’Casey’s engorged penis. It was a throbbing monolith of flesh, and the sultry huntress couldn’t help but appreciate and pity its painful longing. Her palms caressed the skin of his warm, hardened thighs. Her prey’s penis continued to pulse hard.

She lowered her head and kissed the tip of Shaun’s dick—soliciting a shocked response from her quarry who was about to rip the sheets he was holding on to.

She teasingly kissed it again, and again, and proceeded to lick downward, feeling the ghostly veins around the shaft, until she reached Shaun’s scrotum. She pecked each ball and licked the skin between them in a brief, upward motion.

He inhaled deeply, filling the room with his hoarse moaning. She proceeded to lick his balls as her soft hand stroked his wet shaft, and continued to do so until she felt something gathering in him, slowly. With this she released the shaft and swallowed his penis and sucked hard, head bobbing with careful, precise pace. Her body’s instinct and her keen skin felt something was slowly rising from the base of his shaft. The man on the verge of exploding. She pulled her head away from his dick.

“Not yet,” she whispered, looking directly at him with naughty, emerald eyes.

“Oh… Oh god, please, Ella…” Shaun cried. He felt needles of despair piercing his groin. “W-Why?”

She crawled forward. Along the way she pecked the his crotch, his belly button, his abdomen, his chest, his nipples. She tasted every salt of his body, smelled the manly scent trapped within the creases of his skin. She licked his neck, his cheeks. She did repeatedly until her lips found his lips, tongue twisting, exploring. She enjoyed sucking his mouth, sometimes biting his lower lip. Both bodies squirmed and squeezed in such sweet ecstasy.

Vampirella unlocked herself from the passionate kiss with her prey. She laid Shaun’s head on his pillow, letting him catch his breath. Her fingers combed his salt and pepper hair, all tangled and coated with sweat and gel.

He was trapped, lying down helplessly beneath the huntress. Her elbows and knees were firmly planted on the soft bed. Both bodies were heavily heaving as they gazed at each other.

“Look at me,” she whispered, careful not to break the sanctity of the moment. She looked down on him like how a mother gazes at her sleeping child. “Look at me, Mr. O’Casey. Deeply.”

He obeyed. The look on her face was just serene, soothing, seductive.

“Can you feel this?” she asked.

Vampirella lowered her hips, letting the folds of her inner labia—damp and hungry— softly touch the head of his throbbing penis.

Shaun softly jerked, as if tickled, soliciting a deep exhalation of air that was laced with cognac and coke, and longing.

With her heightened smell she took them all in, letting herself be engulfed by new, raw sensations amping her core. The erotic, psychedelic effect made her more wet at each second. Warm fluid started dripping on her creamy thighs.

He nodded, so fast.

“Good,” she whispered, smiling. “Keep looking at me. Only me.”

As Shaun was letting himself be drowned by her eyes he noticed that they were slowly turning amber. The change in her eye color gave Shaun a rising feeling of warmth inside.

“Do you want me, Mr. O’Casey?” she asked as her soft hands cupped his faced. Her raven hair flowed like waterfalls, finding their way to his aching shoulders.

Shaun’s flesh was deeply overwhelmed by her sweaty skin, her sweet smell. Here she was, Ella—everything he desired—gloriously naked and locked unto his body. But something was keeping him from responding freely. A mild tugging somewhere at the back of his head made him hesitate.

Vampirella noticed Shaun’s reluctance, and softly groaned over the man’s resistance against the pleasure she was ready to offer him. She felt the mental locks protecting her prey, and she had to try harder in order to win him over to her side.

“Do you want me, Mr. O’Casey?” she begged.

This time Vampirella slid her warm pussy against the head of Shaun’s penis. She let the bud of her vulnerable clitoris brush against the man’s pulsating flesh, sending a massive shockwave all over her body. She shook her hips, softly and slowly, and grinded her way into the depths of his consciousness. As her body quaked in pleasure, her hard nipples teased the surface of his chest.

The erotic rapture was quite overwhelming, thanks to her heightened senses, that she was on the verge of losing control.

The very sight of Vampirella half-closing her eyes, biting her lip to regain composure, quivering with shaky breath — shortcircuited whatever was holding Shaun’s mental defenses. The wave of pleasure caused by the sacred sight, topped with him drowning in carnal bliss had finally broken the barriers in his mind. He was now free—free of everything and everyone. He was now free to pleasure the goddess before him.

“Do you want me, Shaun?” she asked, one last time, eyes pleading. The tempo of her grinding was getting faster now. It was driving them both livid with libido.

“Y-Y-Yes,” he said. “Yes!”

Finally.

Grinning with relief, she lowered her head. Her hungry breasts once again covered Shaun’s chest.

“Then give me want I want,” she whispered in his ear. “Fuck me.”

Shaun’s hands immediately grabbed her hips and lowered them with lustful force, pulling her flesh into his flesh. Every pillar which held his sense of self collapsed as soon as he entered her.

The initial flash of pleasure made Vampirella arch her back, her head thrown by ripples of ecstasy, all known facets of carnal joy flowing in and out of her body, vibrating all over the entire surface of her wet, delicate skin. Vampirella and Shaun O’Casey were now trapped in sexual frenzy.

Their moans intertwined as Vampirella rode Shaun O’Casey. The latter spewed adoration and information and all other things he could say just to please the goddess on top of him. He wanted to give everything to her. Everything. With their minds linked he knew all the things she wanted.

From his mouth escaped the dirty things he wanted to do to her early this afternoon.

From his mouth escaped the words which gave her access to all his possessions.

From his mouth escaped the nature of their dark schemes.

From his mouth escaped the name of his master.

Everything he said further turned Vampirella on. She was now milking him with such passionate intensity, her body becoming a conduit of sensations that was bursting outward. Her skin became feverish, and droplets of sweat were falling on Shaun’s skin, playfully blessing him with her essence.

Vampirella cried in deep pleasure as she faced the silent moon.

He opened his eyes wide, mesmerized by the surreal image before him: Vampirella, one hand caressing her smooth, delicate neck; the other hand smoothly combing back her dark hair. As she rode him he appreciated how her breasts bounced in rhythm with his body. He could hear the magnified sound of their sweaty thighs pounding each other.

He put both shaky hands on her breasts, making her jump in surprise. He loved that. For a brief moment it made her look so vulnerable, so innocent. He kneaded her supple breasts and squeezed her pair of pink nipples.

“Oh...Oh!” Vampirella cried. “M-m-my, sweet, sweet Shaun!”

Shaun O’Casey was completely drowning in her body. Her cries of pleasure rang in his ears. The pounding of their skin was raging louder. He felt the tension finally rising in his legs, his knees, his thighs, his groin, his penis...

Shaun finally burst inside her.

Vampirella felt the sudden expanding warmth inside, sending her further into such dizzying, crazy ecstasy. She didn’t stop as her pussy continued to hold on to her quarry’s still throbbing penis.

Her amber eyes furiously locked on him—her intense stare commanded his body to gather all remaining strength in his groin.

“I want you, Shaun!” she cried as she continued to relentlessly ride him. “I-I want you, s-so much!”

She continued to pound him with her powerful thighs over and over until she felt this intoxicating force swelling in her crotch. The juice from her pussy continued to flow.

Vampirella was now suddenly filled with this white, piercing warmth which felt sacred and sincere. Her mouth opened widely, unraveling a pair of ivory fangs offered before the moon, right before the kill. Her nails sharpened, grown into predatory talons, piercing Shaun’s shoulders, pinning him on his own bed.

Shaun O’Casey couldn’t help but silently cry out the searing pain growing on his shoulders. He pushed her back, but she was just too strong. Down below his penis was tightly trapped by her hungry pussy; her legs locked on his lower hips. He couldn’t move, couldn’t escape from the fiery euphoria. All he could do was to surrender himself to the night’s darkness, to embrace his gruesome fate.

Her fangs homed towards Shaun’s neck. As soon as her teeth pierced the man’s skin, his blood sprayed all over the virgin white sheets. He felt her shiver violently while she was sucking his blood. Vampirella was bathed in deep orgasm as she fed on him.

All he could hear was the sound of her hungry sucking; all he could feel was the flesh of her pussy wrapped around his penis…

Shaun O’Casey opened his eyes for the last time. His naked body was hurt and could barely move. He tilted his head, slowly. At the corner of his vision was Vampirella, casually sliding back to her suit. Parts of her face, her chest were smeared with his own blood. He heard the click of her golden ring as they once again held the white collar and the crimson straps which barely covered her body. She came around and climbed back to bed.

Her body cuddled his dying body; breasts pressed on his side. She wrapped her leg over his leg. Vampirella rested her head on his shoulder. He could barely feel her finger circling on his chest, playfully wiping bits of blood on his skin. Slowly she sucked her stained finger clean.

“Familiars,” she said, her voice now relaxed and smooth as the night. “They’re tricky to break from their master. It took me a while to synch my mind and body with yours.”

“But you. You’re something else, Mr. O’Casey,” she continued. “You were meant to survive this as I was looking forward to exploit you more. I was hoping to use you, to lead me to your master — but you tasted so good that I got so greedy. I totally lost control.”

He wanted to scream.

“Still, you gave me everything. Your modus, your password…your master’s name.” She gave him one last kiss, just near his lips.

He wanted to take back everything he had said, but somehow it felt good offering them all to her, somehow it made feel free. All he could do now was merely choke in despair.

The remaining string of blood dripped from the fresh pair of puncture wounds on his skin. Shaun O’Casey, who once longed for immortality, accepted the inevitable: his death.

“T-Take me,” he said, closing his eyes with deep finality. Tears rolled down his cheeks. “Take m-m-me.”

Vampirella gladly obliged, pressing closer.

The last thing he felt was her warm tongue caressing his neck.


End file.
